


We Ain't Got but A Moment

by keelover



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Spoilers, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-20
Updated: 2012-09-20
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll add the summary in the notes to prevent spoilers from the latest episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Ain't Got but A Moment

**Author's Note:**

> A brief piece set after the last episode, right before Chibs, Jax and Tig are about to be whisked off to jail. I intend to add another piece complimenting this one sometime in the future.

  Juice embraced him, chin upon his shoulder. There was still an inherent sadness in the boys eyes, heart sullen. Chibs felt like a true, right bastard leaving him, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. As Jax’s sergeant-in-arms, it was his duty to keep the president of their club safe. That; however, didn’t make it any easier. Chibs slid his hand down to the center of Juice’s back, steering him towards the bedroom he sometimes used when staying at the club when he was too intoxicated or indolent to leave.   
  
    The cops would be there any moment, and emotions were running high. Jax and Tara, Gemma and Tig; it was a chaotic time. The idea of going to prison wasn’t his idea of a marvelous time, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been there before; it came with the territory. The idea of leaving Juice, though, that was something difficult for him. Their roles had been reversed this time around; however, with Chibs being the one sent to prison, and Juice being the one left behind to worry.    
  
    “I know you’re goin’ to be just fine, Juicy-boy,” he said, positioning Juice’s chin so that their eyes met.  
  
    “And what about you?” Juice asked, arms tense as he gripped Chibs’ forearm in his hand. Juice needed him, too. The boy wasn’t right, he never smiled.  
  
    Chibs sighed, back held up against the wall, paint peeling in beige colored strips. Juice scratched at a piece absentmindedly, there was something on his mind, Chibs knew. “You’re gonna have to spit it out, boy. I’m leavin’ soon, you know?” he said, taking a hold of Juice’s wrist. “And I would like a shot of somethin’ strong before I go.”  
  
    “We’ve got booze in here, remember? Gemma was trying to keep Bobby from finding it.” Juice moved towards the bureau tucked in the corner of the cramped room, wooden panels shifted permanently to the left after Bobby had attempted to jump from the mattress to the dresser, resulting in a trip to the emergency room, and the end of their last good piece of furniture. “Scotch for the Scot,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice as he handed Chibs the bottle.  
  
    “Sly bastard.” Chibs studied the cylindrical shaped glass in his hands, marveling at the fact that no one had stumbled upon such a treasure. Their bar was replenished almost everyday, but it wasn’t unusual for them to be dry within hours of being stocked.    
  
    “One hundred proof a decent going away present?”  
  
    “The best.” Chibs twisted the cap off the bottle, taking a long swig before grimacing. The burn in his throat dulled the ache in his chest, and that could only be a good thing, he thought. Juice smiled, and though brief, it launched Chibs into wrapping his hand behind the back of his neck, and kissing him with a rough mouth laced with whiskey.  
  
    Juice surrendered, lips parted as Chibs continued the onslaught of his mouth, the muscle of his tongue exploring the crevices of Juice’s mouth. A grunt crossed Juice’s throat as Chibs reversed their positions, thrusting him up and against the wall with one, hard shove. The warmth of his flesh was refreshing, taste of stale beer familiar. Juice was panting, heart racing as Chibs’ hand explored the spanse of his chest, teeth skimming the contours of his jawline. The time spent away would no doubt be torture, but at least he would have something to recall upon late at night.  
  
    The fingers of Juice’s left hand dug into the mid of Chib’s back, the other cupping his cheek, bringing his face leveled with his as he kissed the side of Chib’s mouth. Chibs fought to catch his breath, forehead pressed into the crook Juice’s neck. “C’mon, Juicy-boy,” he said, straightening Juice’s cut. “Time to go wait this out, yeah?.”  
  
    “Yeah.”  
  
    Chibs spent the remainder of his time watching the security cameras positioned around the clubhouse, but every few moments he would allow a glance towards the younger man, watching as he took another sip of beer or cracked an odd joke with Bobby. Chibs grinned somewhat smugly, the lad would be fine until he came back. “All right, ladies. Our ride’s here.”  
  
    As Happy approached the door, welcoming hell into their sanctuary with a stone-cold stare, Chibs pulled Juice into another embrace. And though it wasn’t as passionate, he held it for longer, pressing a chaste kiss across the other mans temple as he pulled away, staring into the deep brown of his eyes. “I’ve no doubts you’ll be fine. An’ if I have to kill every last one of those bastards in there to come back, I’ll do it,” he said, fingers lingering against the back of Juice’s head.  
  
    Juice smiled. “I know.” And it was then that Chibs knew everything he had done twenty minutes prior had been well worth it.  
  
    “Good.”


End file.
